Eulogy for John Emory Floyd
For
anyone that knew my father, you knew a true southern gentleman. He was known
for his southern hospitality. He loved nothing more than guests at the table
and family gathered around. I most
remember how much he loved to laugh.
Alzheimer’s
is a terrible disease; it takes away memories and one’s ability to communicate. But it does not take away the memory those
who love that person. So – although Dad’s memory was shutting down, we were
hearing old stories that were coming back and replaying as the new memories
could not be held on to for more than a few minutes. We heard stories about his
childhood: stories like the time he ordered a flyer from a comic book about
being a hypnotist and hypnotized his sister Toosie and convinced her she was
Sleeping Beauty and she would sleep for 100 years. It took a house call from the country doctor
and a bucket of cold water to bring her back.
He told us stories from WWII that we had never
heard. He described the last days of the
war and he was watching weary soldiers loading onto the huge ship that would
bring them home. He noticed that the duffle bags were so heavy some of the men
could barely lift them. He assumed they had souvenirs or gifts. The evening after they shoved off, the
captain made an announcement, “We can’t turn back but it has come to my
attention that about 30 Italian women and more than 20 dogs
have been brought on board. All of you men who have smuggled Italian
girlfriends on the ship will meet on deck tomorrow morning 0-600, whereas the
captain of this ship, you will be formally wedded. These girls and women will
not be taken advantage of—they have suffered enough and will step onto American
soil as your legal wives.”
We
have so many stories that Dad told us. His stories were never mean spirited or at
someone else’s expense. Everyone in our
family will remember and hold on to Dad’s memories for him. For Daddy it was
all about stories and he loved a tall tale and a good clean joke. To Dad, (being
a Reader’s Digest kind of guy) laughter was the best
medicine. He used his stories to make connections and make people feel at ease
and special.
There were so many things Daddy cared
about and he had a vast range of interests and knowledge. I will mention just a
few of his passions. He loved good food, especially seafood and he loved
whatever Mom cooked but he was also an excellent chief and prided himself on
preparing the perfect steak or hamburger on the grill. My niece Vicky reminded
me last night that he also loved making homemade ice cream, especially peach
ice cream on the 4th of July. Of course we had the hand churn
because the best part was the wait and anticipation. Also, it kept the children busy turning that handle
for an hour.
Dad loved the water- it could be a beach or a river or a
lake. I guess that is why Johnny, Jeannie and I all live on property bordered
by lakes or creeks. Dad was at home
cruising down the Waccamaw River or taking the boat over to meet up with
friends to campout, fish and swim on Sandy Island. He made sure we could all
swim and taught us to water ski at Lake Hartsville or on the black water
rivers. He loved the beach and swimming
in the ocean and some of my best memories involve hanging out and talking with
Dad beyond the breakers, riding the waves and walking down the beach at sunset.
He loved music, and we grew up listening to corny “Sing
along with Mitch Miller” albums. We endured (but secretly loved) Pat Boone, big
band and swing, and of course his vast selection of Broadway musicals like
South Pacific, My Fair Lady and Oklahoma. This enabled me to annoy my own children
by knowing the words of hundreds of songs but having a terrible voice. But the important thing is I passed that love
of music on to my own children. Daddy wanted all of us to appreciate music so
we all had music lessons- Johnny and Jeannie did learn to play the violin and
piano. Poor Dad and Mom- having to endure those recitals and three kids
practicing endless scales and remember Johnny playing the violin while our dog
Chet howled along and Dad just laughed thinking that was the funniest thing.
Daddy loved the South and being a Southerner and he loved
being an American and all that represented. When WWII shook the world, Dad
stepped up and served with distinction winning many accommodations and medals.
But Dad never bragged or discussed the horrible parts of the war, he only told
us stories that were humorous or about acts of kindness. His letters sent to
his sister throughout the war have been carefully saved and the SC History
Archives has asked that we donate them sometime this year. The letters were
sent almost every other week and chronical his observations and feelings. Here
is an excerpt of his letter written near the end of the war:
( I do not have the letter
copied- I need to get it out of archives)
If
the war had not disrupted his dreams of attending college, he might have had
one of many professions. He could do anything it seemed- Maybe he could have
been a designer or architect. He designed and oversaw the building of our
house. He was a woodworker and designer.
He could have been a historian specializing in history. Our bookshelves
were full of his books on military history and biographies of Thomas Jefferson,
Robert E. Lee and Winston Churchill. He
might have been an actor or writer. Mother remembers seeing Dad play the lead
in high school plays and the rumor is that he wrote the Aynor High School Alma
Mater. When we were growing up, he loved going to the Florence Little Theatre
and he provided the authentic WWII costumes for South Pacific and won a theatre
award for his contributions.
Maybe
he could have been a doctor because although Mom was a nurse, it was Dad that
we called when we had a skinned elbow or a splinter. Vicky said that her
granddad would just say, close your eyes and before you knew it that splinter
was out or that cut was cleaned up and bandaged.
He
wanted his family to have all the advantages that he could give us. We took vacations to the North Carolina mountains and Florida. Almost
every summer we rented houses at either Cherry Grove or Pawlys Island until he
bought a three bedroom house at Surfside Beach. In his early retirement he
added on a three room addition after he was practically blind.
Daddy loved to laugh and tell stories, especially about
his childhood and his family. The Floyds are famous for our love of animals,
especially stray and abandoned animals. Dad and Mom tolerated all the animals
we brought in. We had hamsters, kittens, wild rabbits, abandoned dogs, and
feral cats. Daddy built our critters the only two story dog and cat house I had
ever seen. The heated dog house was on
the bottom and the cats had the top floor that included a sun deck. Johnny
brought in creatures from the woods like snapping turtles and garter snakes and
Jeannie once raised a possum.
Dad indulged all of us with our hobbies. When mother
decided to make and collect porcelain dolls and decorate elaborate doll houses,
he installed lights that dimmed and one house even had a tiny working doorbell.
He made stilts, designed toys and built tree houses for the grandchildren. He never
lost his own childhood enthusiasm for playing and he was ruthless at Chinese
checkers and chess and as far as outdoor sports he could do archery, throw a
bowie knife, and walk on the stilts he constructed from maple poles. Dad liked
to fish but he did not hunt. Although he was a sharpshooter in the war (and he
did this on skis) he never shot at another living thing again after he returned
from Italy.
Yes
Dad had surprising talents and skills and he cared about so many things. He
loved his family and he was proud of our accomplishments: he let us know when
we lived up to our expectations and when we did not.
But
most of all he loved our mother. They
were devoted to one another. But as you all know they had very different
personalities and temperaments. Dad
loved mom’s spunk and her courage. If
Mom wanted something, he would support her and work to make her happy. In some
ways he may have wanted to make up for her early days of living on a farm after
the depression. If she wanted a
convertible, we got a convertible. For
Mom, there was support of her parents without question. He provided a river house on the little Pee Dee, help
with her garden of unique flowers and supported her crafts and hobbies. When Mom retired and
wanted to travel to Germany and Switzerland (and later to Romania for a mission
trip), he just wrote the check and handed it to her. He did not want to travel,
but he wanted her to see the world.
He was lucky to have my mother and anyone who visited our
house in the last desperate years saw her care and loving attention to Daddy.
All of her skills as nurse were used to keep him comfortable and secure as his
light diminished. I know that you all have your own memories. Speaking for the
family, we have all been blessed to have the parents we have. We will miss him
and remember his wisdom, humor and kindness.
I appreciate all of you who helped care for Dad the past several years.
